


Forgiveness

by bygoshbygolly



Category: The Borgias
Genre: Beating, Confessions, Frottage, M/M, Punishment, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bygoshbygolly/pseuds/bygoshbygolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesare has Micheletto confess his sins</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A bystander unfamiliar with Cesare and Micheletto would have a difficult time telling the difference between punishment and reward.  
When Micheletto was good, successful in a mission, it meant a heavy knotted rope beating bruises into his back, rope burns on his wrists and ankles, teeth marks on his thighs and (when he was very good) the sting of a whip or a knife. He wore these marks with quiet pride, symbols of his success.  
When he made a mistake, when he failed, the marks were few. Cesare Borgia had revealed himself to be quite ingenious in devising methods to reprimand his assassin without leaving visible signs. He had other methods to punish Micheletto when he failed.  
Micheletto had failed now.  
~*~  
“Your orders were not to kill him, you were merely to threaten. Was I somehow unclear?” Cesare paced the room, fists clenching and unclenching. Micheletto stood in the middle of the Cardinal’s chambers, staring straight ahead.  
“No, your Eminence.” Micheletto repressed a flinch as Cesare suddenly grabbed a handful of his tunic.  
“Then explain.”  
“He attacked me, your Eminence. I acted without thinking. He was dead before I could stop myself,” Micheletto breathed, looking into Cesare’s eyes.  
“You didn’t think.” A statement.  
“No, your Eminence.” He lowered his gaze. “Forgive me.” Calm settled over Cesare’s features at this entreaty. He placed a hand on Micheletto’s shoulder. There was only Cardinal Borgia now, no trace of anger on his face.  
“You have taken a life, and that is something that only God can forgive.” He pushed down, forcing the assassin to his knees. “You must kneel, and confess your sin to the Lord, and hope that he sees fit to absolve you.” Micheletto knelt, and allowed his master to rearrange him as he pleased. A sharp tap between the shoulder blades fixed his posture, and Cesare’s hand closed his eyes. Without prompting, Micheletto clasped his hands and brought them to rest in front of his chest, as if praying, which led Cesare to lay a pleased hand on his head, bowing it slightly. The room was silent as the assassin waited for his master to give the cue to begin.  
“Tell me why you’re here, Micheletto,” Cesare prompted. He sounded how Micheletto imagined he did in the confessional, infinitely compassionate. He sounded like he believed in an almighty God, one who loved and forgave those who sinned against Him. Eyes closed, with just that voice, Micheletto could almost believe that this confession was real instead of a punishment.  
“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned,” Micheletto began haltingly, making the Sign of the Cross. He had not confessed since he was a small child, and the words were mostly forgotten. “It has been,” he paused, thinking. “It has been twenty-five years since my last confession.” He took a deep breath. “I have taken an innocent life, and dishonored my master.” There was silence once again as he tried to determine what Cesare wanted from him now. He could feel the warmth from the other man, standing mere inches from him. The ground was hard beneath his knees.  
“Is that all?” Cesare asked. He stepped back and Micheletto heard him walk around him, issuing another tap between the assassin’s shoulders to correct his posture once more. “Are there no other sins you would like to have forgiven?” Micheletto almost cursed at this. It was not enough for Cesare to force him to ask forgiveness for his most recent mistake; he would have Micheletto recite the long history of his misdeeds and compound his humiliation.  
“No, your Eminence. There is more.”  
“Continue, then.” Cesare lay a firm hand on the nape of Micheletto’s neck. “Leave out nothing.”   
~*~  
Micheletto’s sins kept him there for longer than he could have imagined. Every time he faltered, Cesare would ask “Is that all?” in the same Cardinal’s voice he used in the beginning, and Micheletto would begin again. He was stiff from being in the same position for so long and his knees ached to the point where he could think of little else. His mind was consumed with the soreness and the humiliation of dredging up past mistakes while the whole time Cesare was never more than a few inches from him, touching his shoulders and back whenever he felt Micheletto’s posture was slipping.   
“Is that all?”  
“No, your Eminence,” Micheletto breathed. “I have one more sin to confess.”  
“Go on,” Cesare’s tone was indulgent now, satisfied that Micheletto had been punished appropriately.  
“I am ashamed to admit that I…had indecent relations with a member of the church.” Cesare’s hand gripped Micheletto’s shoulder tightly.  
“Sodomy?”  
“Sodomy, your Eminence.” Micheletto finally opened his eyes. Cesare stood in front of him, looking amused.  
“Well, Micheletto, this is indeed a grievous list of sins. And do you repent?”  
“Yes, your Eminence. I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life.” They stared into each other’s eyes as the understanding that the punishment was over passed between them.  
“Very well, then. Your penance is to continue in your service to the Church, and to obey your master in all things.”  
“Yes, your Eminence.”  
“And,” Cesare continued, “you shall be beaten with a knotted rope for a week.” Micheletto grinned, lifting his head despite the ache in it.  
“Yes, your Eminence.”  
“Then I absolve you of your sins, in the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Cesare strode across the room to the doors of his bedchambers. “Rise, Micheletto, and come receive your penance.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micheletto does his penance and Cesare reminds him of his place

Cesare shut the door behind them.

“Strip,” he commanded. As Micheletto complied, moving more slowly than usual due to the aches in his joints from his confession, the Cardinal removed his boots and coat. He produced the heavy knotted rope commonly used for mortification of the flesh, and handed it to Micheletto. “Here. Stand at the foot of the bed.” The assassin complied, presenting his back to Cesare. 

The thud of the rope against flesh echoed through the room at each strike. First one side, then the other, in a steady rhythm. Micheletto grunted with each impact of the rope as the air was forced out of his lungs. Cesare watched intently as the rhythm never faltered, even as the rope struck already tender skin. Five, ten, fifteen beats, and the only difference was the quality of Micheletto’s breaths, sounding shallower every second. Finally, at twenty, he spoke.

“Stop.” He moved closer. “Well done, Micheletto.”

“Thank you, your Eminence,” the assassin panted. Cesare stood right behind him, hand hovering over his back without touching, feeling the heat of the bruised flesh.

“You enjoy this,” Cesare said, tracing one of the scars his whip had left before digging his fingers into the tender red skin. Micheletto hissed, muscles tensing.

“I am not myself unless I am in the service of another, your Eminence. I take my pleasure from performing whatever tasks they require of me.”Cesare pressed his fingers once more into Micheletto’s back, twisting and drawing another hiss from the man.

“And would you pledge yourself to anyone, Micheletto? Am I simply the means to your sense of self?” he whispered into his ear.

“No, your Eminence. I have never pledged myself to one as noble as yourself. I would not be in the service of another, having been in yours.” Cesare smiled and reached around to find that Micheletto was hard.

“You would say that to anyone, though, wouldn’t you, Micheletto,” he murmured. Cesare closed his hand over the other man’s erection, pulling slowly. “You would swear to each man that there is no one so noble as him, that you will always be at their disposal.”

“No, your Eminence.” Micheletto’s voice was so firm that Cesare stopped his hand. “I spoke the truth. There is no one I would rather serve; there is no one else who can command my loyalty the way you do.”

“Well,” Cesare was at a bit of a loss. He knew that Micheletto was loyal, but to hear such a confession was unexpected. He recovered quickly. “I suppose such honest words should be rewarded.” He began moving his hand again, slowly. He pressed his chest to the other man’s back, grinding his hips into Micheletto’s ass. He kept it up until Micheletto grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Wait,” he turned. “Allow me, your Eminence.” Sinking down, he winced briefly as his already bruised knees hit stone, and unlaced Cesare’s breeches. Careful of his beard, he took Cesare into his mouth. 

Cesare let Micheletto set the pace for a few moments before grabbing his head and thrusting at will. He enjoyed the feel of Micheletto’s mouth around him, and the way the assassin simply relaxed into Cesare’s hold without issue. Micheletto’s mouth was good, but it was not what Cesare wanted. Not after the night’s earlier events. Roughly, he pulled the other man’s head upwards.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough. When Micheletto complied, Cesare took a moment to marvel at the bruises covering the other man’s back. He placed a hand on the nape of the assassin’s neck and pushed so that Micheletto was leaning over the bed. “Hold that position. Use your hands if you need to.” Micheletto braced himself and waited. Cesare shed his clothes and pressed himself once more against the other man’s back. With a groan, he began to grind his hips against Micheletto’s ass, his fingers seeking out the marks he had caused. 

“These scars, Micheletto,” he panted, “are symbols of my faith in you.”

“Yes, your Eminence.” Micheletto’s voice was tight.

“And these bruises,” Cesare continued, “serve as reminder of that faith.” He pressed his fingers into the worst of the marks and pressed himself closer to Micheletto. “You will not fail again.”

“No, your Eminence.” There was no mistaking the desperation in Micheletto’s voice, even as he maintained position.

“You will earn more scars, more of these marks.” They were both so close.

“Yes, your Eminence.” He was shaking now, his body exhausted after so much.

“You may come now then, Micheletto,” Cesare murmured, and Micheletto complied, collapsing onto his elbows as he did. Cesare followed, pulling back slightly to allow his release to splatter over the assassin’s back and thighs. 

They rested for a time, recovering. Then Micheletto stood and dressed, not bothering to clean himself up. 

“I will see you tomorrow, your Eminence.”

“Yes. We have much work to do,” Cesare smiled lazily from the bed. “Micheletto?”

“Your Eminence?” Micheletto paused, halfway out the door.

“Do not forget to return here tomorrow night. You still have six more days of penance.”

“Yes, your Eminence.”

**Author's Note:**

> The confession process in this fic isn't exactly traditional, but then again, Cesare isn't a traditional sort of cardinal.  
> I realize that using religion in a story, especially as a kink, can be risky, but no offense was meant, and apologies for any caused.


End file.
